


Mating Run

by BabaTunji, Galaxiaa7



Series: ABO Wakanda [2]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Erik Killmonger, Animalistic, Breeding, Cousin Incest, Dubious Consent, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega T’Challa, Rough Sex, This Is Not A Coercive Band-aid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-06-26 19:50:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15670110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabaTunji/pseuds/BabaTunji, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galaxiaa7/pseuds/Galaxiaa7
Summary: AU Canon Divergence. Erik doesn’t get to steal Klaue.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is something i've had sitting around for awhile. I wrote in collaboration with ginfizz and galaxiaa7.  
> Accompany Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/user/1278819366/playlist/6I49c60eOhbTl6YfQgyEgg?si=ed9qndjcSN2X3sIcMTR8IQ

“Mating Habits of Wakandan Omegas”

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Erik’s plans fall apart in Busan after his cousin kills Klaue in the middle of a busy street. Erik watches the news broadcast and gruesome footage, reevaluating his plans. At that time, they were staying in a hotel not far from the scene of said murder.

It cuts him like stray shrapnel. All those years of planning, months of dealing with the beta slimeball, wasted. Linda, his girl and his right hand remains pragmatic as ever, jumpstarting Plan B. The beta allows him his minor breakdown, with a long hug and a rough quickie. She then goes off to deal with paying off Klaue’s men and covering their tracks.

As they hightail it out of Busan, Erik’s head is still clouded and he’s angrier still with himself for pinning so much of his plans on a waste of space like Klaue. Linda checks in with her people over at M16. No doubt giving some fake but fully sourced report. Erik ignores his. A travelling shuffle lands them in Abuja, Nigeria. He continues to steam and he waits. They have his father’s journals, notes and a few connections with sympathetic old War Dog buddies. In the past, Erik had used the connections to get some basic intel as well as check in on Wakandan current affairs. Now, he calls in favors while attempting to build a new strategy.

Days after leaving Busan, they finally discuss at a small restaurant over fried fish and room temperature Fanta. Linda points out that if they headed to the border, and weren’t killed for their trouble, they would still be turned away for sure. Unfazed by his glare, she continues to point out that his story might still be worth something. Especially if his uncle kept his dad’s death under wraps the way his War Dog contacts have led him to believe.

He scoffs. Even with his father’s ring and his tattoo, he would still be considered a foreigner and without Klaue’s body as a gift and insurance, his story is now useless. His father had been a traitor as far as T’Chaka was concerned and he had died for it. Even if no one else but his betrayer and his killer knew.

Two days into their stay, Linda gets a tip off from a friend of a friend at the embassy on an ongoing situation in Kano, a state in the northern part of the country. Around the same time one of the more useful War Dogs contacts sends Erik a short but informative missive on an ongoing mission by another younger reactionary War Dog he kept contact with. Who just so happened to be working in the same area.

So they move. Linda initially proposes using one of the dead War Dogs they had information for to create a fake identity for both of them. But in the face of Wakanda’s intense scrutiny and other issues mostly with Erik’s notoriety, they decide it’s probably best if he doesn’t lie about who he is. Creating an identity for Linda is much easier, she’s a verified ghost on most agency radars, it serves them well now.

Plan B works, probably because it’s Linda’s idea.

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Wakanda is beautiful. Erik appreciates the sight fleeting as it is, of the country's vibrant technology, large and small buildings looking like they’d been built in different centuries and with different styles. They haven’t seen anyone apart from border tribesmen since they started their trek and the route they take is one of mostly alleyways and hidden tunnels. He doesn’t try to pay much attention, he knows they’re probably doing their best to disorient the both of them anyway. His shoulder twinges, from the angle in which his hands are cuffed, their weapons had been confiscated after they’d come in contact with the border tribe.

Linda walks at his side, back straight, eyes forward. Her hair is limp from the humidity, Abuja and later Kano had been much cooler/dryer and thus kinder in comparison. She is also handcuffed and offers him a reassuring head tilt when their eyes meet. He knows despite her cool demeanor she’s as amazed as he is and smiles in response.

They walk in line with the procession of border tribesmen. The most disconcerting thing being some of them had no telltale dynamic scent, while some did. The tribesmen leader for example, was distinctly beta. But the woman who had cuffed him earlier, had no distinguishing scent at all. He wonders at whatever tools Wakanda had that made hiding one's scent to such a strong degree possible.

Eventually they’re led into a transport and then into a tall dome shaped building, Erik assumes is where his cousin holds court. He forces the jitters in his hands down. This was not what he had originally planned but it would have to do. Almost two decades worth of planning had gone into this moment. He forces a swagger in his step and an easiness he doesn’t feel into his demeanor. They were masquerading as some long-lost allies. They needed to act the part.

They stop finally by a large double door, where women in red, stand at attention. Their shaved heads tips him off to who they are, and a conversation starts in Wakandan between the Border Tribe Leader and a woman to the left of the large doors. Linda catches his eyes while they wait, and raises an eyebrow, eyes moving to the Dora Milaje at the door and back to him, the Dora are now watching them intently. He shrugs, Linda knew as much as he did about how Wakanda operated, and much of their plan hinged on actually meeting Erik’s cousin.

Time passes and the conversation ends. The doors open, and they’re led into the room. The room is large, larger than Erik expects, with a tall ceiling and yawning circular setting. At the center a man, Erik recognizes to be his cousin, is seated on a curving throne, situated upon a dais. He is surrounded on both sides by a varied group of mostly older persons. To his left an older woman with white dreads stands, eyes cautious posture regal. The border tribe leader introduces them, in English this time. Erik takes another moment to look around before he finds her. The War Dog they’d assisted in Kano is standing next to a man dressed in Dark green, he’s wearing some sort of ring on his lower lip and it protrudes outwards, accenting the ritual scars on his face. The Alpha herself, is dressed simply in similarly green colored dress.

Their eyes meet, and she nods to him then turns back to his cousin. W’Kabi tells an abbreviated version of their tailored story then offers up the ring. The room goes quiet, for a moment, then everyone begins to talk at once. Across the din of voices, he hears the woman standing beside his cousin, whisper shout in Wakandan.

“Impossible. We have no records for a son of N’Jobu, my husband would have dealt with such a matter himself.”

And so the chatter continues, one of the elders says something nasty in Wakandan towards his cousin and Erik fights to keep his face neutral and not laugh, he understands most of what they’re saying but he’ll keep that knowledge to himself for now. His cousin’s attentions settles back on him finally, he raises a hand, and the chatter dies down for him to speak.

“If you are truly the son of N’Jobu, why did he not bring you home? We have no record of you.”

Erik stares back at his cousin. And considers his answer and the story he and Linda had cooked up before meeting the Alpha War Dog and then on the bumpy plane ride to the border. The story they had already told in bits and pieces to the Alpha War Dog they’d assisted on her mission in Kano and the parts they’d told the border tribesmen leader. The story his cousin, already knew, no doubt informed by his own Intel. He knew all of this was probably for show but he speaks the words again with conviction.

“My father was killed when I was nine years old. Whatever plans he might have had for me, he died before he could act.”

He forces emotion and sincerity into the words, keeping his own anger and revulsion tightly under wraps. He projects calm, and out of the corner of his eye, Linda shifts. His cousin follows the movement of his eyes, to focus on Linda.

“And your partner?”

There is no insinuation in the words, for which Erik supposes he’s grateful for. Linda was a big girl, she could handle herself but sometimes his own anger got the best of him. And people always had opinions on an Alpha and a beta.

“She can speak for herself.” This part is off script but Erik can’t help himself, his cousin just rubbed him wrong. Besides, there were two ways this could go. They could test out the strength of Linda’s forging skills when they’d created her new fake identify as an adopted daughter of a dead War Dog… or they could go with her version of what passed as the truth. He leaves the choice to her, and pretends he doesn’t understand the amused reactions to his words from the peanut gallery.

“Born and raised in London, my parents were from Nigeria, died when i was teen, then I was fostered by one of your own.” Just like him, her story is ambiguous and open to interpretation except her voice is different now, lilting in a textbook London ‘estates’ accent. Her expression open and sincere much like Erik’s probably was at the moment.

There's some titters from the gathered council and Erik parses the backstory she’d just given, while they wait for his cousin’s response. She’d gone with the fake identity, so he’d need to be more careful henceforth. He takes a moment to feel proud of the beta he’d now known for almost a decade. She was an actual wonder, and if they made it out of this alive she’d be the reason why.

Finally, his cousin speaks.  
“We have no record of either of you, but given the situation, the reports from our War Dogs, and your compelling stories, we will give you the benefit of the doubt while investigating further.”

His cousin’s expression is cautious but hopeful and Erik hates it. His anger at Klaue for getting killed like the dumbass he was bubbles and he aborts the snarl rising in his chest into a soft grunt. Takes a breath and smiles, easy, charming.

“Makes sense. Thank you for listening.”

He walks up to the dais where his cousin is still seated, ignoring the way the Dora closest to the the man tense, “It’s good to be home.”

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Hours after, he and Linda settle into a cozy apartment, complete with appliances they both have no idea how to use and the paranoia that comes with lying in foreign territory. To Wakanda’s credit, the apartment was more luxurious than some of the five-star hotels he’d stayed in complete with new clothes and toiletries. Erik avoided both despite his current clothes being soiled and his body covered with sweat and dust from their travels.

The weapons they’d brought in hadn’t been returned to them, neither were the few possessions they’d carried for the short journey, including his father’s ring. The last being the most upsetting. Erik pushes the darker thoughts away and stares on from the balcony of the apartment at Wakanda’s sunset. Eventually he feels Linda watching him and turns away to face her. She’s lounging on a sofa, messing with one of the appliances, freshly bathed and dressed in a simple shift dress. To the casual observer she looks relaxed and ready for sleep but Erik can read the tension in her shoulders and her strategic sprawl, perfect for leaping unto or away from any would be attackers.

“So… Kelis was not, lying about a hidden African country with crazy tech.” Her voice is still in that practiced accent, and Erik takes his cues from her. If Wakanda had any brains, the whole apartment was certainly bugged. Kelis had been the assumed name of the dead War Dog, they were using for her cover. He knew by Kelis she meant him. So he nods back and turns again to the sunset.

“Made it this far, let's see what happens.”

In the morning, after an indulgently long shower and breakfast, there's a soft chime at the entrance of their apartment. He and Linda share a look, and Erik pads over casually to the door. His hands flexing retroactively at his side. He feels naked honestly without even a gun or a real knife. The monitor to the side of the door shows a young girls face, he doesn’t recognize flanked by two Dora Milaje. The girl beams, dark braids bouncing.

“Hello? We haven’t met yet. I’m Shuri, your cousin!”

He wonders how she knows it's him at the door, was there a similar display on the other side? He turns back to Linda, who shrugs, and then he presses the button on the panel to open the door.

He steps back as the princess and the two Dora step in. She looks around the room, eyes landing on Linda. She waves again, greeting Linda. Mere feet separate him and his baby cousin, he eyes the Dora accompanying her and fights a grin. It would be stupid of them to trust him, especially not with their princess. Though the girl in question seemed quite excited to see him. A new experience for sure.

The short distance allows him to casually scent her. Baby Alpha, he raises an eyebrow at that and takes a guess at her age as she proceeds with an excited word vomit. He guesses 14 maybe 15, and responds when she finally stops to breathe.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Princess.”

Her answering laugh is cute he will admit, then Linda joins them. She’s changed from the night prior into a neutral colored top and dark loose pants, similar to what Erik was currently wearing.

“Princess Shuri, I’ve never met a princess before, only seen them on television, it’s lovely to meet you” Linda’s voice is warm and cheerful but not overly syrupy, the princess seems to eat it up and the conversation goes on without Erik. He eyes the Dora again then walks back to his breakfast. Today was looking like it would be quite busy.

The day turns out to be very busy, complete with sightseeing and several selfies, courtesy of the princess. Despite the princess’s presence and her Dora bodyguard, they don’t seem to attract that much attention. He takes time to gape at the technology and pays better attention to the princess’ rambling on different bits of history, gossip and forays into the more science intensive explanations of Wakandan daily life. The last being the least common, despite his and Linda’s careful prodding.

They enjoy toasted meat pastries from one of the princess’ favorite eateries for lunch. They’d started from the north east part of Birzin Zana where the royal buildings were located and ended up further south, by a lazy river that the Wakandans used for ferry rides and not much else it seemed.

The topic of vibraniuim and its uses come up several times though he and Linda by mutual agreement do not pursue the subject. Instead they focus on the princess’ work. Shuri was apparently an engineer and ask general questions about Wakanda and its history. The princess answers most of their questions easily enough, and her tendency to get side tracked or off topic gives them quite a few gems of information. Chief among them, the fact that the War Dog they’d assisted was apparently champion of the River Tribe and a princess in her own right.

Shuri leaves not long after lunch and they are escorted back to their apartment. This time he does pay attention to the route they take. Even if their cover story holds he would be in the city for the foreseeable future. Might as well get comfortable.

They’re left to their own devices for the rest of the week. The princess’ visit proving to be a one-of and probably spur of the moment event. Every evening Erik watches the sunset. In the mornings they have breakfast, after the first day they split up and explore the city separately. Usually accompanied by a Dora Milaje. They get looks occasionally but for the most part are left alone.

They don’t hear from his cousin that week. Erik guesses he’s working since Wakanda seemed like the type of place to have a monarchy that actually did something. The princess certainly was, if what she’d told them about her labs were anything to go off. They each do their own reconnaissance under the guise of sightseeing and regular outings. They know to some degree, from the princess’ first visit, what the kimoyo beads are capable of and that most people seem to have them. It's easy to extrapolate after the first few days why neither of them are given one.

So they wait, and watch, and talk in coded words and vague phrasing. 7 days after their arrival, his cousin pays a visit.

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His cousin visits an hour before they plan to eat dinner and Erik thinks it’s Shuri. So Linda’s the one who goes to the door. He’s watching what they realized around the 3rd day, was the Wakandan equivalence of a television and satellite when the door chimes. He’s waiting for the telltale voice of the princess or maybe a Dora, when he hears the soft snap of fingers in a casual staccato. Erik looks up slowly but with intent to see Linda giving him a look, her hands held casually by her side. He stands easily, stretching his arms knowing just who was at their door.

He remembers the ugly scars Klaue had borne so proudly, and his ugly reminiscences when he was drunk enough to be freer with his stories. He forces calm, into his scent, and casually brushes Linda’s shoulder with his own when he walks closer. If they were going down, they were going down together.

His cousin is alone when he steps in. Erik’s not sure what to make of that. Though his mind flashes to the footage of the man slashing Klaue’s throat. He smiles, greeting the man and Linda follows his lead.

His cousin invites them out for dinner. On their way to dinner, Erik doesn’t see any of their usual Dora trailing them and he’s not sure what to make of the odd evening. The lack of a trail bodes well for their continued survival. The implication being both of their stories checked out.

He and Linda take turns sharing pleasantries along with their own findings and activities during the past week while they wait for their food.

His cousin’s accent is both distracting and relaxing, a rolling and predictable timbre. He laughs at some of their findings or offers insights into some of the places they’ve visited. Erik realizes halfway through their appetizers just what is bothering him so much.

His cousin has no scent.

The absence was masked by a subtle cologne but still the lack of a dynamic marker as important as scent was jarring. He knows Linda picked up the same thing probably before he did if he’s honest. But the question on how or why some Wakandans seemed to have no scent bounces once more in his mind. At some point his cousin gets into what he’s been doing in the past week, besides vetting their identities.

“Planning for the mating run has taken up most of my time this week. It only happens once every few years so many people are always involved even if only a fraction participate.”

Linda raises an eyebrow and then asks the question they’re both wondering. “Mating Run?”

His cousin pauses from taking a sip from his glass, confusion then understating quickly flashing on his face.

“It’s an older Wakandan tradition, tweaked over the years. These days it’s usually only the younger people that participate.”

His cousin’s explanations doesn’t clear the confusion so he probes further, “What’s the point? Of this mating run?”

For a moment he thinks his cousin will dodge the question or change topics. He seems uncomfortable with their line of questioning.

“The mating run is a traditional… matchmaking event of sorts. Participants who enter the run are usually seeking a mate, though there are those who participate out of traditional obligations. Like myself.”

For the first time since their meeting, his cousin’s words are stilted, usual grace missing. Erik wonders what’s making him so uncomfortable. Admitting that Wakanda apparently threw some sort of old school orgy event every couple years, or the fact that he apparently had to participate.

“Sounds like a good time, guessing it’s too late for me to enter?”

He’s mostly teasing but his cousin’s face turns serious at his response , and Linda shoots him a look. One that tells him to shut up and play nice. But he’s already said the words, so he waits.

“The mating run is a serious event. Participants have died in the past during the run. It is not what you would call, a free for all.”

He laughs playful still, though his cousin doesn’t join him.

“Died from what? Dehydration from too much sex?” Even Linda reacts minutely to his words, though his cousin’s’ face remains serious. All too quickly Erik’s own mirth turns into anger.

“Look, you don’t gotta to pull my leg. If it’s off limits to outsiders just say so. No need for the scare tactics.”

His cousin considers his words carefully, before speaking, sounding resigned.

“The mating run is open to all of Wakandan citizens, so either of you could participate if you wished, as wards of the Golden Tribe. Though I would personally advise that you did not. The run can be intense, people have indeed died in the past and not due to mundane issues of hydration.”

“What do people get out of the run, if they’re not looking for a mate?” Linda asks while Erik’s still swimming in his own annoyance and anger wrapped tightly under a sharp smile.

Before his cousin can answer, their food arrives, and there’s quick shuffle of plates and cutlery.

Once settled he speaks.

“Younger Wakandans often use the event to test their mettle amongst the different tribes. It is another way to… prove themselves among their peers. The run is a week long event and participants must fend for themselves during that time.”

Erik turns over the information in his mind. Considering what his cousin was saying and what his cousin wasn’t saying. This event was obviously some sort of rite of passage. Something Erik probably would have done if he had grown up in Wakanda. Something his cousin didn’t want him doing now…

“So If I decided to participate anyway. Would you stop me?”

His cousin watches him for a long moment, to his left Linda focuses intently on her food.

“I would not. I would simply advise you against it. If you insist on participating, I would advise you to prepare appropriately for the run. It’s in three days time.”

-

Linda reams his ass after dinner with his cousin. Even after he points out the networking/rite of passage nature of the dumb mating run and the fact that his cousin didn’t want him participating for a reason.

She agrees with him but then counters, agitated and pacing around their shared bedroom, he hadn’t done it just because it was an opportunity to make allies and get an idea on who was who. He’d done it to challenge his cousin. She was right of course and Erik doesn’t back down.

The next day she goes in search of the princess. On a mission to get more information for quote unquote “dumb fucking Alphas who think they’re so big and bad.” Taking his cue from her, he makes his way over to a nearby cafe and library and reads a bit. His access to Wakanda’s internet is restricted but the local news is not. He gets very little information on the actual mating run and a lot on who was participating on said run. Complete with submitted photos and general gossip.

It’s how he learns; his cousin is an Omega. The news is both surprising and not. If nothing else, it explains his cousin’s weird non- scent. There are several pages dedicated to the country’s King and former prince. Speculation and rumors and a lot of pictures of him and the Alpha he now knows is a princess but also a War Dog. The one that was probably responsible for them being allowed entry into Wakanda in the first place. He thinks about irony and fate and dumb fucking luck. Then heads back to the apartment.

Linda joins him later, looking tired and serious. He guesses from her demeanor she’s gained more information about the hunt than he had. Over a dinner of rice, a vegetable based stew and roast chicken she gives him the breakdown. It is *not* the orgy Erik thought it was. She lists the numbers courtesy of the princess on Alpha and beta deaths. There’s no mention of Omega deaths.

“So, who’s doing the killing?” he asks halfway through her spiel on what the mating run consisted off. “Alpha hunting wild life?”

The joke falls flat. And the look she sends him is equally flat and unimpressed.

“We can only hope.” Her words are as dry as their sex life since coming to Wakanda. Speaking of which, he reaches casually for her hand. The one not currently wielding her fork like a weapon. The beta eyes him, like a praying mantis. Fuck they’d really been working too long together, the synchronization was creepy.

“Somehow I don’t think this is going where you think it is.”

She’s still using that fake but fucking sexy British accent.

So he lays on the charm a bit.

“No sugar for this dead man?”

She does a complete 180 expressions-wise and gives him a warm, ‘come hither’ look. He leans closer, eyes on her lips. Then she digs her nails into the palm of the hand holding hers, and holds it there.

He doesn’t pull away, taking the warning for what it was. This was probably one of the nicer ways she’s rebuffed him. Re-oriented him really. This wasn’t a game and he needed to focus.

“Get through this stupid fucking run and then ask again.”

The day before the run, his aunt invites him to lunch. The invitation is passed on to him by the Dora who normally goes with Linda. The beta in question, was currently out, probably charming the princess or doing something to get them more information. And he was…having lunch with his auntie.

The Dora who had delivered the message escorts him to the place he assumes they would be having lunch. Which turns out to be a building not far from the one where his cousin held court, their first day in the city. He notes the panels all along the building, probably solar ones and other things he can only guess the function of.

The Dora guides him to a lounge area of the oddly shaped building and leaves. After a few moments he sits and waits. He doesn’t wait long before the doors to his left slide open and a woman steps out. His aunt is dressed in a soft gray dress, face bear, hair and body unadorned. It’s a bit jarring if only because despite her much more casual dress she looks just as commanding as she did when he first saw in the throne room. Her presence is encompassing her scent strong like a warning. She’s an Alpha.

The last bit gives him pause. He debates on which persona to go with for this lunch, discards them all as they come to him. He lets the fake smile go, keeping his face neutral instead. All this felt like a test. He stands up to greet her.

The academy and then the Navy had broken him of the instinctual need he might have felt to posture. Remembering the different greetings, he’s seen while sightseeing around the city, he goes with what feels natural. Smoothly he prostrates on the ground, his forehead only a few centimeters off the cool tile.

If she’s surprised by his actions he can’t tell, and when she greets him in turn he gets back on his feet and follows her deeper into the building. The whole thing reminds him of his cadet days and waiting for the passing officer to acknowledge his greeting so he could continue whatever he was doing.

He wishes as he sits on an ornate chair at a table set for two, that he and Linda had been able to find more information on Wakanda’s royal family before or after arriving in the country. He hadn’t known the Queen was an Alpha. Or that his cousin was an Omega till he had met her in person and read an actual gossip column about him. He wasn’t sure what that said about Wakandan culture. Did they just not care? Or was it a privacy thing? A quarter of them were walking around with no scent. Which lent credence to the dynamic markers being a private thing.

The actual lunch starts easy enough. The queen asks him about how he’s doing, how Linda’s doing, simple things. And he answers easily enough, even throws in some humor too. Then things go left.

“According to our sources, you are an American black ops agent. What has brought you now to Wakanda?”

Erik is lifting his glass for a sip when she asks, and through some minor miracle doesn't drop it, continuing the smooth motion to his lips and setting the glass down gently.

Her eyes are curious but guarded, Erik considers his words carefully. They’d planned for this, and had wondered after the initial first few days when they’d start asking questions. Belatedly he wonders if Linda was undergoing similar questioning.

The best lies, had some measure of truth in them, so he responds, eyes forward and to the left of her face, no eye contact and very proper for addressing an older Alpha.

“Where I grew up there were few options, for kids like me. Joining the military is what I chose. I haven’t been active in years though.” Vague, and tinged with truth.

He guessed they would be seeing the extent of Wakanda’s impressive intel soon, when they fact check his statement. Though the reality was, they wouldn’t be able to prove it one way or another. He hadn’t checked in with his handler in a long time, and he wouldn't be checking in now. In the field that meant a missing in action discharge usually. Depending on how well Klaue and Linda’s people had covered their tracks, following his movements in the past three years alone would be near to impossible and mostly useless for actual intel.

He can’t tell from the older Alpha’s face whether she believes him or not.

“But you are aware of the position you are currently in? As a verified agent for a country like the U.S.?”

There’s something she’s not saying and it irks Erik. A point she was trying to drive home that Erik wants to burn. He keeps his cool though. He has a rising suspicion this is linked to the oh so mysterious mating run, he’d signed himself up for.

“Either my story checks out or it doesn’t. I did what I had to do. If I’m a verified former agent for the U.S. it’s because my own father was killed and his killer was never brought to justice. I made my own way after that.” There’s some truth in there, and Erik makes sure to emphasize the former agent part, letting some of his anger spill into his voice. This is a test. It always was. But whatever his aunt is fishing for he wouldn’t give it to her.

“So you became a tool for an imperialist country, with an absurd verified kill count, in search of your father’s killer?”

Her words make him grin. So, she’s read his file. No wonder she didn’t have time for his lies because they were lies, no doubt about it. His anger is quickly replaced with amusement because he realizes they’re playing with him. They already know who he is and what he’s capable of but they let him in anyway.

He wants so bad to make them regret it.

He promises himself then, he would make them regret it.

“Never been one to half ass things. When I went to the academy I committed, went all out. Made sure they knew who I was.” He lets some of his pride bleed into his words.

Then pauses, pushes some sincerity into what he says next.

“But that part of my life is over. It’s why I’m here now.”

He starts to eat again. This time he meets her eyes when he lifts the cutlery to his lips. He’s waited almost twenty years for this, what was a bit more?

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The next morning, he and Linda locate the supplies store for the run. Their usual Dora trail is missing. Linda is tense but hiding it well, quiet while he rifles through the approved items in the kiosk-like store. Some of the items he dismisses simply because they would be too bothersome to carry. He has a knapsack and he intends to travel light. Other items he’s just not sure what they do. He throws some of the smaller stuff in his knapsack anyway.

He feels calm, mostly. Whatever this mating run was about he would deal with it the same way he’d dealt with every other hurdle, demolish it. The weather is mercifully cooler than it’s been all week, and Erik is almost comfortable in the airy dress top and loose pants, he’d chosen for the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erik’s greeting to Ramonda is based on Yoruba Cultural greeting for males. Sorry for the typos and less than put together formatting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This went places, also didn't end the way I thought it would.  
> One more chapter to go ><
> 
> Thank @levelup on the t'cherik discord for giving the motivation to edit this mess.  
> Thank galaxiaa7 for making this not suck.

-:-

Once Erik leaves to join the other participants of the run, a Dora Milaje comes over. Linda recognizes the woman from the princess’ first visit. “Princess Shuri would like for you to join her.”

Linda assumes the princess will probably have a better view and understanding of some of the things that are about to happen so she agrees. The Dora Milaje leads past colorful tents surrounding an enclosing to a much larger tent, with more Dora Milaje guarding.

The princess unsurprisingly is not watching the proceedings. Rather speaking with her brother who appears to be spraying himself with something; and wearing a lot less than the last time she saw him. Linda stops some distance away to watch the two.

“The strength of this spray has been increased, in theory no one should be able to smell you but it will wear off. So be careful.”

The words make no sense at first, but then Linda tries to discreetly scent for T’Challa and gets nothing. She can scent Shuri, distantly but present; but there's no telltale coming from the King. Not even the weird neutral scent he’s had every time they met.

T’Challa doesn’t respond or even acknowledge Linda’s own presence, focused on the small display coming from his kimoyo beads.

The princess turns to Linda. “Good morning.” She walks closer, apparently done with her brother.

“Good morning.” Linda greets back. Her attention is now on the display on one of the walls of the tent-like structure. It was showing an aerial view of the mating run participants. She doesn’t see Erik and she’s feeling mildly curious so she asks, “Your brother isn’t joining the others?” She could guess why, he seemed to be more of an officiator than anything.

The princess looks up from her kimoyo beads. “He will. I just wanted to tweak one of his supplies.”

The spray perhaps? The princess doesn’t say anymore on the topic. The conversation moves unto who else was participating and the running bets on possible unions. Shuri notes a few involving T’Challa, but none involving Erik. Maybe due to his late addition.

T’Challa greets her eventually with a nod before exiting the area. He seems to be annoyed, the affable charm from their previous meeting missing.

“Is everything ok?” Linda finally asks once the loud announcement for the mating run’s start is over. The princess’ attention is divided between her own kimoyo display and the displays on the wall.

“Why do you ask?” Shuri’s attention settles fully on her, Linda reminds herself to tread carefully; she is a guest. “Your brother seemed irritated.”

The odd expression on Shuri’s face dissipates to something more playful. “Oh T’Challa?” She waves a hand, unbothered.

“He is like that for every mating run, he is not looking for a mate… So it is just camping in the forest and avoiding everyone else for a day or two.”

“Does he already have someone in mind?” Erik had mentioned him dating someone according to the Wakandan version of a tabloid he read.

Shuri shrugs. “Yes. But it is looking more unlikely. Especially since...” The princess trails off and Linda debates pushing the line of questioning.

“Is the person he has in mind, participating in the mating run?” Linda would guess no. The participants for the run seemed pretty young, early 20s. T’Challa was in his late 30s at least.

Shuri shakes her head. “No, she’s not.”

-:-

T’Challa goes through the motions.

This would be his third time participating in the run. The thought starts to feel bitter when he dwells too much on it. His duties as Black Panther included officiating the proceedings, and his unmated status meant he was also expected to participate.

He had joined the Priests of Bast once Shuri finished her ‘update’ and acted the part of Bast’s avatar and Damisa-Sarki. After which he became just another participant in the run.

T’Challa looks over the numerous faces, as they were preparing for the run. Following the initial proclamations, there was a segment for ‘declaration of intent’ where participants were given markings made with ceremonial paint to indicate vocations, dynamic and family names. Some of them already displaying marks from their respective families or personal marks.

He catches sight of his cousin after the ceremony. He has no vocation mark. The sign for the panther tribe and his designation as alpha the only marks on his scarred skin. The placements of his markings is also odd. Which might be due to the scars on his arms and torso.

T’Challa’s own markings are differently placed due to being Black Panther. However despite having no vocation marker, the position of the markings on his cousin’s chest and back, mirror T’Challa’s own. It wasn’t even the shared clan name, there were a few distant cousins sharing the Udaku clan name among the participants.

T’Challa chalks the symmetry to coincidence.

The ceremony ends not long after and the atmosphere changes. The ambiance and warmth from before overshadowed with deeper drums and a new frenzy.

-:-

Shuri turns from the monitors, and focuses entirely on her kimoyo beads. Linda keeps looking at them, seeing participants represented as small as dots running into the jungle. A few moments later, Shuri pulls up a separate monitor. With T'Challa in view. Then another for someone Linda doesn't recognize.  
  
"You can watch individual people during the run?" Linda had wondered how they knew what was happening or whether they'd actually be seeing the 'mating' part of this hunt.

Shuri looks up. "Yes, most of the run is being recorded. It is why viewership is limited."  
  
"Can we look at any participant we want?" She wonders where Erik is.  
  
Shuri pulls up a few more screens, on one of them, she sees—after asking the view to be zoomed in some — Erik. On the map of red and blue, Erik shows up as a dotted red line. There are also blue non-dotted lines and purple dashes. The monitor also seems to be recording Erik’s vitals as well as—heat cycle? Linda wonders at the accuracy.  
  
Shuri closes out of the various feeds so it's only her brother's monitor and Erik’s in view. Then she goes to sit at a nearby lounge. The actual mating run would take 30 hours all together, bub there were other ceremonies before and after so she assumes many viewers would be camped out for the duration.  
  
Linda follows Erik's monitor attentively, he hasn't come into contact with any other participants, since the event began. After awhile she walks over to the lounge. There, Shuri is watching an even bigger map, showing all the participants. "What happens if participants cross paths?" Linda asks.

Shuri closes out the conversation thread she was responding to. "They mate or they fight usually. The area’s been drenched in mating pheromones so even if the participants are not in heat their instincts are on high alert."  
  
Erik hadn't run for long. Unlike some of the other participants who seemed to be keen on getting as far as they could from each other. The dot that had been close to Erik some minutes ago is getting closer.

"Is N'Jadaka looking for a mate?" Shuri sounds curious.

"No he isn't." Linda wonders why Shuri is asking. Was he acting like he was looking for a mate?

  
-:-  
  
Shuri watches the first dot and pulls up the corresponding monitor, they were an omega. She didn’t recognize the face but she could see their body paint. Border tribe. As they move closer into N’Jadaka’s range of view, Shuri watches her cousin’s heat cycle bar. It doesn't fluctuate at all, but the omega’s heat cycle bar does. Except — she watches silently as N’Jadaka goes to greet the omega, she doesn’t catch what he says but his tone is familiar. Had he met the omega before? They’re not close yet but the omega must make their decision because the next thing they do is attack N’Jadaka.  
  
"What's going on, why are they attacking him?" Linda asks.  
  
Shuri watches morbidly fascinated as N’Jadaka, after a moment of hesitation, efficiently incapacitates the border tribe omega. Once the omega is unconscious Shuri turns to Linda. “They must not have liked N’Jadaka’s scent or felt threatened.” She wonders what would have happened if her cousin had reacted at all to the omega’s scent.

N’Jadaka moves on after that. But he still doesn’t display much caution or thought of the other participants. He crosses path with two alphas and a beta before he reaches a stream. “Did N’Jadaka use the scent blockers?” Shuri would guess no but she asks anyway.

Linda’s response confirms her suspicions. "Scent blockers? No he didn't, but he has them with him, I think. Does he need them?"  
  
That would explain how the first omega had been able to track N’Jadaka so easily. It also meant her cousin was leaving a trail. Well — he hadn’t had any issues dealing with the first omega. He would probably be fine. “Most participants use them. It’s considered courteous, especially with the pheromones already in the area.”

T’Challa’s own blockers had been improved by her, so they would hide his scent almost completely.  
  
"What would happen, if someone didn't?" Linda asks. The beta and alpha pair are now approaching Erik.  
  
Shuri shrugs. This was her first time observing the run as well. “In N’Jadaka’s case he is now easier to find. But it might also make the reactions from other participants stronger. When the scent is muted it’s not as bad.” The alpha and beta pair seemed to be giving N’Jadaka a wide berth. Probably afraid, her cousin was an impressive alpha, with a distinct scent.  
  
The next altercation with an omega goes the way of the first. This time however her cousin doesn’t hesitate, attacking the omega with extreme prejudice. His heat cycle response remains stable through the violent exchange.  
  
Shuri wonders why N’Jadaka had joined the run in the first place, if he wasn’t seeking a mate. She knew her mother had her own suspicions but she wasn’t sure. T’Challa’s monitor in contrast has been as quiet as she expects. He hasn’t encountered anyone yet, and is doing his best to remain out of sight.  
  
“This will go on for hours. There’s some refreshment nearby if you want anything?” Even with the unusual happenings, she is sure both T’Challa and her cousin would be fine. Most confrontations seemed to end once one party was unconscious or sufficiently incapacitated. She doesn’t wait for Linda to respond. She wants a drink. Then she would update her social feeds.

-:- Erik POV -:-

Erik wakes up to screams. He rolls up from his resting position and his entire body protests. The last omega he fought had been persistent. With his last fight in mind, he wonders if he should investigate. Against his better judgement he walks towards the source of the noise.

Erik sees someone crouched over something on the ground, he thinks he recognizes the markings on the man’s back — T'Challa? He doesn't want to disclose his position in case he was mistaken. He gets closer, being careful to stay hidden behind the bushes and tree branches around the clearing.

When he sees an opening, he springs towards a tree trunk at the border of the clearing to get a good view, and looks more closely at the man. The first thing he thinks is ‘yeah that's T'Challa’, but then, something's weird, T'Challa is looking down at a body on the ground.  
  
T'Challa gets up. Erik can see the body on the ground clearer now. They aren't moving.

He remembers the aggression of the other omegas – less trained, younger omegas than T'Challa – towards him when they saw him approach. Even he had difficulty getting out of their grip without losing a arm. What did T'Challa do to this young alpha?  
  
The omega’s attention has left the body on the ground to turn towards the forest. Erik retreats a few steps reflexively. The omega’s new alert position, and intense gaze looking towards his hiding place behind the leaves, tells him that he has been found. T'Challa looks particularly intimidating, Erik can see specks of blood on his face presumably from the dead alpha.

Erik's senses are on high alert. He should leave, but there is something in T'Challa's facial expression that makes him stay against all judgement. The blood still on his lips is oddly enticing, this is an omega who knows how to defend his territory. If someone tried to attack his cubs, they would die painfully. The primal part of Erik wants to be closer to this omega.  
  
Erik moves just a bit from the foliage. Not closer but enough so the omega could see him more clearly. If he needed to run he would, he has little doubt T'Challa could kill him. He doesn't want to scent his cousin, but he figures it's inevitable now. They were related, hopefully the omega would remember that before trying to kill him or rape him.

-:- T’Challa POV -:-

There are splatters of blood on T'Challa's face. Some of it has trickled into his mouth. The alpha had been desperate when they fought making his death even messier. There's a low hum in T'Challa's ear and he spends longer than he intends by the dead alpha's body. The mating run would end in less than 12 hours, someone would come for the body soon. N'Jadaka was still close by.

He needed to hide himself properly. The spray Shuri had used was now starting to fade, and if his cousin came too close. He would be able to scent T'Challa now.

T'Challa scents the alpha first. The smell has been on the edge of his senses for hours, and suddenly it’s close. He turns casually, hackles raised and ready to attack if necessary.

He doesn't expect the alpha to approach him. The man had just fought off several very persistent omegas. Why was he so close? The proximity makes something in T'Challa curious. His cousin's scent was not unpleasant, the opposite actually.

T'Challa gets closer to the edge of the clearing. N'Jadaka is not moving, he would be able to touch him soon, he could pin him and use him for breeding if he wanted to. N'Jadaka is sweaty from his previous fights, the markings smudged from close contact. His scent is different than the other alphas T’Challa has encountered in the mating run, stronger.

N'Jadaka allowing T’Challa to approach intrigues him even more. This strength and calmness during heat – T'Challa doesn't want to mate, but this is all pulling at his instinct. He only want to touch him, touch hard muscles flexed from recent efforts.

When they are facing each other, their encounter unavoidable, Erik quips, "Guessing you weren't feeling him like that, huh." He looks from the dead body and back to T'Challa.  
  
"He did not respect the rules of the Run." T'Challa responds without paying much attention to anything else but N'Jadaka's face. Then he looks down to his crotch, he only wants to touch it— get it inside him. He stalks closer.

  
-:- Erik POV -:-

Erik doesn't move back, but he really wants to. He hasn't scented T'Challa properly but T'Challa is looking much too interested for his tastes. "Well, this has been an experience. Think I have some sympathy for you now, with the whole having to do this till you're mated." Erik is rambling.  
  
"Why don't you come closer? I will not bite you." T'Challa is nearly within Erik's reach now, he’s been moving slowly closer this whole time.

“Where did your spirit go? You were so eager to join this hunt despite my repeated warnings. So, are you a panther or simply a deer running into the forest?”

In any other situation Erik would have definitely said something smart. But he just wants this dumb fuckfest to be over. Apparently on the other end of fucking for hours on end in the jungle was getting mauled by an unhappy omega. He lets T'Challa come closer. The omega's scent isn't that strong, but Erik's scent is. He watches the omega's eyes dilate further. The weird expression from before melting into something downright predatory.

_Fuck._

  
-:- T’Challa POV -:-

T’Challa is so close now. Erik's strong, unmuted scent fills his senses, making him salivate. He can detect all the minutiae flavors of the hormone: the compatibility, the availability, readiness to mate, his heat — everything around them fades, T’Challa only sees N’Jadaka, he only wants him.

"So you are a deer." T'Challa isn’t put off though. Then he jumps the short distance separating them, tackling N'Jadaka to the ground.

N’Jadaka rolls into the fall, and punches him in the midst of their stumbling. T'Challa feels the pain all through his skull, but it does not stop him. It's even attractive, seeing this alpha trying to fight him off, push him away; T'Challa sits up on Erik's stomach, but doesn't bother to hold N’Jadaka’s fists. He wanted to see how well the alpha fought.

N’Jadaka twists, trying to extricate himself from his position under T’Challa. In response T’Challa settles fully atop him, preventing him from moving further.  
  
T'Challa realizes that the alpha was holding his breath as his chest remained unmoving. It makes the omega smile. The alpha knew if he scented T’Challa properly he would be lost to his instincts. At first T'Challa waits, keeping his equilibrium on N'Jadaka's stomach; but N'Jadaka still doesn't breath. So, T'Challa decides to remedy this by hitting N’Jadaka on the chest with his palm.

N’Jadaka finally breathes and his body shakes from relief. He lets out a groan and slams his head against T'Challa, using the small window to break free from T’Challa’s hold. T'Challa roars in pain, the head butt from N'Jadaka was stronger than he had expected. But he soon recovers, standing to follow N'Jadaka. Before N’Jadaka could bring any meaningful distance between them, T'Challa tackles him again by the shoulders this time. As they both fall to the ground, N’Jadaka twists to send a low kick.

T'Challa bends with the force of the kick, he's starting to get annoyed with this alpha. They were compatible, why was he still fighting? His irritation makes him want to strike the offending alpha harder; N'Jadaka could not struggle for much longer.

The next time T’Challa tackles him he physically drags the alpha to a nearby tree. Slamming into him with unmeasurable strength against the tree trunk. N’Jadaka glares at him, he is breathing hard, but doesn’t try to pull away this time.

T'Challa holds him up against the tree, his arms on his side preventing N'Jadaka from getting away. If he wanted to get away, he would need to use more force, and the longer he would smell T'Challa's scent, the harder it would be. And if N'Jadaka still wanted to fight him or escape, T'Challa would respond in kind. T'Challa presses even more against the alpha. The blood on his temple from attacking T’Challa, only deepens his desire. Cautiously his brings his face closer to the alpha’s.

N’Jadaka leans in, lips parted.

The omega in T’Challa is exalted. T’Challa closes the remaining distance between their lips, but N’Jadaka doesn’t meet his, instead going for his neck and biting him. T’Challa jolts from shock – and pain. He screams, the bite hurts and he can feel blood. He pushes N'Jadaka away but retains his grip on Erik, now by the throat. "Do not do that again."

N'Jadaka's eyes widen as T’Challa nearly lifts him off the floor, “Get the fuck away from me.”

The words have no bite. T’Challa can see how his eyes have dilated. He tightens his grip on N'Jadaka's neck, the alpha was being impudent. His purpose was to breed, why such resistance?

T'Challa's reaches under N'Jadaka's clothes with his other hand. There was nothing to unfasten or unzip – the convenience of mating run’s special outfits. He reaches till he finds what he’s been craving. The alpha’s cock was half-hard T’Challa wouldn't need to do much to now. Roughly he strokes N’Jadaka to full hardness. The smell coming off of N'Jadaka's cock is so enticing.

T'Challa, feeling hazy now from the alpha’s pheromones and his own lust, releases N'Jadaka's throat slowly. He crowds close to Erik, bracketing the alpha so he would have to fight T’Challa physically off him to get away. The new position is better, comfortable, and he can concentrate on his task while still keeping N'Jadaka against the tree. His other hand cups N’Jadaka's balls and he is rewarded with a low groan.  
  
N’Jadaka's hands settle on his ass, responding to T'Challa's stimulation. T'Challa takes some of his own slick on his hand for more lube and strokes faster N'Jadaka's cock. He has the intense desire to bite him now, but he resists the urge.

T’Challa makes the words as alluring as he can against N’Jadaka’s ear, "Are you ready to breed me now?" he groans and pushes his ass more against N’Jadaka's hand. "Such an unusual alpha, you smell perfect." T'Challa is irritated at his own words, he knows breeding this alpha, also his cousin wasn’t a good idea, but it's too late now. At least he took the necessary contraceptive beforehand, even if he hadn’t expected to mate with anyone.  
  
N’Jadaka grips his ass tighter. Grinding into what’s being offered, leaning fully into T’Challa’s hand on his cock. His head rests against T’Challa’s shoulder, nose pressed to the omega’s neck. Feeling impatient now he orders, "Get down."

In response he feels a sudden pain in the junction between his shoulder and neck. N’Jadaka had bitten him, again. He freezes before his body relaxes against his own volition. This wasn’t the same kind of bite as before. This was a proper alpha bite, meant to subdue him.

"Think I wanna use your mouth first.” N'Jadaka’s voice is low, mirroring T’Challa’s own words from before. T'Challa involuntarily licks his lips.

He should punish the alpha again for being so disobedient. Yet he imagines that fertile alpha cock in his mouth, tasting it, sucking it, his mouth opening wide for it—he wants it. On his own terms. T'Challa repeats, “Get on your knees, alpha." He enunciates the word ‘knees’ by pushing the alpha down by his shoulders.  
  
T’Challa does not push with the inhuman strength from before so N'Jadaka manages to pull him closer. “Blowjobs work best if you’re on your knees.” The cockiness from before is back.  
  
T'Challa makes a noise, N'Jadaka's strength and stubbornness is making him weak. But he would not be rewarding the alpha’s disobedience.

"I want to suck your cock." But not like this.  
  
T'Challa pretends as if to get down on his knees, but then tightens his grip on the alpha’s cock, "But first, I want you on your knees."  
  
N'Jadaka reaches back and presses a hand against T’Challa’s wet hole. “Or I could fuck you proper.” T’Challa tenses and tightens his grip more.

N’Jadaka continues, “I’d fuck you so good. You know I would.”  
  
T'Challa's anger returns, why was the alpha being so difficult? "Go down or I will make you."

N’Jadaka smiles. T’Challa’s eyes are on his mouth. He licks at the gold caps on his teeth then he smashes a fist to T’Challa’s side and runs.  
  
T'Challa stumbles backward, reeling from the blow. His anger finally overcoming his lust. He would have to teach this alpha his place. In the time it takes T'Challa took to recover N'Jadaka has already sprinted away.

T’Challa follows, intent.

-:- Erik POV -:-  
  
The further Erik gets, the more the haze clears. Fuck he had really been about to fuck his own cousin. This whole fucking run was a joke. He doesn’t bother turning to check to see if T’Challa is following, he knows he is.  
  
Erik runs as fast as he can, trying to lose him among the trees and bushes, but T’Challa is agile, even with the alpha bite and whatever pain Erik had caused him earlier. He ducks under a tree and trips over something. It's painful, he falls down the not too deep bottom of a hill filled with gravel and rocks that jab into his skin. When he looks up he sees T'Challa approaching with speed.

Then he sees another body coming out of the bushes. The moment he's out of hiding, Erik can smell it, he's another alpha, he smells young. The alpha must be lost to the T’Challa’s pheromones, since he actually approaches T’Challa. Erik mentally curses, he know what's coming. He gets up, with difficulty, and puts some more distance between the dumb alpha and himself, before it gets too bloody.  
  
The young alpha appears to hesitate, but continues to move closer to T'Challa. Erik is now hidden a little further near a river stream. He doesn't want to watch but he does anyway with morbid fascination. He had his fair share of omega to defend against, but never saw an omega fight off an alpha before.  
  
The alpha jumps and attempts to hold T'Challa in an arm lock, it doesn't last more than two seconds before T'Challa breaks the hold and slams the alpha’s head with with his palm. Grabbing him by the hair and throwing him on the ground. The alpha tries to roll away from T'Challa but the omega is on top of him within a second. He hits him again hard in the face –there are rocks where they are–Erik hopes the alpha will get out of this alive. T'Challa hits him repeatedly and then stops.  
  
The alpha’s body goes still, Erik is too far to tell if he’s still breathing. T'Challa's hand is bloody. T’Challa takes a deep breath, still straddling the poor alpha, and brings his bloody fingers to his lips. He sniffs the scent of the blood, actually licks it. He spits it out and scans the area.

Erik gets down behind the boulder, T'Challa was still looking for him. He steps away from where T’Challa was, as silently as he can. If he follows the current of the river, he can get out of this forest —it might be more dangerous in open grounds, exposed to all the other alphas and omegas.

"N'Jadaka!" T’Challa calls out, not yet honed in on his location.

The alpha doesn't respond. The temptation is there however, to go back to the omega, to breed him, but he's lucid enough now to be able to resist it. He keeps putting more distance between himself and T’Challa. Keeping an eye on T'Challa's movements, by the side of the river.  
  
Erik needs to find a new place to hide, soon T'Challa would reach the clearing and have direct line of sight as to where he was. The omega’s scent was growing stronger again and the temptation to follow it to its source making him walk slower, nearly falling down again. His feet and ankles are now wet from the stream*. He finds a ledge where he can climb up, T’Challa would be able to see him there, but if he was fast enough he could get away.  
  
The rock is high and sharp, he climbs it as fast as he can. Once at the top he pushes himself up to find hard grass and people. There are two distinct scents nearby– two omegas. Erik gets up on his feet, preparing to defend himself against new omega attack, but then he notices something else in their scent.

He looks around and finds what the something else is. The omegas are here. But they don't pay any attention to him, both on the ground and half naked, their ceremonial clothes thrown to the side—and mid-fuck.

The scent of their mating is unusual but fascinating to Erik.. Half-conscious he moves closer to them. He gets two feet closer and the omega on top stops moving, pulls their head higher and looks at Erik right in the eyes.

The omega on top, pulls out of their partner and straightens into a defensive stance. The abruptness makes their partner whine and turn around in confusion, then they see Erik and hiss in obvious aggression. The scene has no right to be as terrifying as it is because, both omegas are naked from the waist down and still obviously aroused.

The omega that was on top calmly pushes their partner behind them. Then says, “This is my omega."

Erik needed to get the fuck away or he would have to fight off three omegas. "Not interested in your omega."

The omega snarls obviously disbelieving. Erik steps back and the omega stalks closer. Then the omega attacks him. He manages to turn around and shake them off, but the struggle pushes him towards the edge of the cliff. He only has the time to absorb the impact to the ground with his hand before he feels something grabbing his wrist. He looks behind him and it’s T'Challa, gripping his arm as leverage to pull himself all the way up.  
  
Erik’s panic intensifies. T'Challa joins him on the edge, still holding his arm with an iron grip. When T’Challa stands he pulls Erik up with him. The omega who had attacked Erik does not seem deterred by T’Challa’s appearance. In fact the two omegas seemed even more ready for a fight.  
  
T'Challa pulls Erik closer to him then presses his nose into the alpha’s neck. The action causes shivers down his spine. The omega’s scent is so strong now, makes his head go fuzzy, and his dick even harder. But the danger is still there. The more aggressive omega stalks closer. T'Challa moves, pulling Erik with him, so that his body is between Erik and the omega. Erik thinks about taking the opportunity to run. T'Challa is holding him tight, but he had managed to get out of tighter restrains before. If he runs, he doesn't know what is going to happen.

"Give us the alpha." The omega in front of them shouts.

"He is mine." T'Challa’s voice makes Erik freeze and his heartbeat even faster.  
  
"I don't want him to breed us, I want to kill him." ‘Kill’ sets Erik off, he didn’t want the fucking omega and he hadn’t come to this run to kill anyone but he would if they thought for a fucking second—

"You are not going to touch any part of him." T’Challa sounds utterly dismissive, it calms Erik even if the possessive tone is slightly infuriating.

T'Challa loosens his grip finally in preparation to strike, blood still on the side of his lip. He looks feral, it’s kind of hot. The two omegas circle each other and Erik waits for the first blow. After his own fight with T’Challa he knows the omega wouldn’t go down easily.

T'Challa attacks first, sending a powerful kick on the omega's stomach. The omega recovers quickly, and the fight quickly goes to ground. The third omega joins the fray. With T’Challa occupied He realizes he could leave, let T'Challa duke it out with the other two angry omegas.  
  
But Erik doesn’t run. T’Challa takes another nasty hit to the face, none of the omegas were holding back. Erik’s instincts are on edge, past experience tells him to not go towards angry omega. It feels wrong to leave the omega he was starting to think of as ‘his’ to fend for himself. T'Challa successfully pins one of the omegas into a choke-hold but the other omega jumps on his back.  
  
Erik makes his decision when he lunges for the omega on T'Challa's back. The moment he wrestles the omega off T'Challa, their partner lunges for him. T'Challa stops them and all Erik hears is a grunt and a scream while he grapples with the omega currently trying to claw his face off.  
  
Thankfully the omega's scent does nothing for him and is actually repugnant now. He ends up not having to knock them out because things go quiet on T'Challa's end, and then suddenly the omega is doing everything in their power to get away from Erik and towards their partner who was probably dead or dying by the way they had just screamed.

Erik lets the omega go, and T’Challa steps away from the possibly dead body.  
There’s blood on the ground and the omega T’Challa put down didn’t look like they there getting up anytime soon.

"He is not dead." T’Challa is speaking to him.

Erik is impressed though now he wonders if the other alphas T’Challa had fought were dead or just knocked out. Erik also notices T'Challa isn’t heat dazed as before. He clears his throat, then starts to walk away. He only gets a few steps before something pulls him curtly back, he turns to face T’Challa.

"Here." T’Challa says. The crazy look from before hasn’t come back but Erik isn’t sure how he feels about this new look either.

"Here?" Erik knows what the omega wants but they're in plain view. He can see the river on their side, if anyone came by the river, they could see them. Then he realizes he's not worried about T'Challa wanting to mate him right now just bothered about being seen. T’Challa smells good, the cuts on his face, and tears in his clothing only makes him more appealing.

"Fine, here." Erik’s tired of running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. The porn is coming.


End file.
